Global paranoia and anti-Americanism are the
legacies of Kosovo. Is this the peace to end all
peace?

The Independent of London, June
6, 1999

by Mark Almond

From the start of the Nato air campaign, Tony
Blair was the most hawkish proponent of the claim
that this was a war of a new type - "for
principles, not national interest" - and it was
one that air power alone could win (even if he
sometimes gave the impression of wanting a good
old-fashioned ground war). Slobodan Milosevic has
not yet signed the EU-Russian peace plan, but the
success of Nato's 11-week air campaign has forced
the armies of sceptics, as well as the Yugoslav
forces, to accept that awesome air power alone
can settle disputes. A sinister precedent has
been set.

Television viewers watching videos of smart
bombs knocking out precisely chosen targets in
Yugoslavia may feel that they have witnessed the
hi-tech equivalent of what Goethe saw at the
Battle of Valmy in September 1792, when the
artillery of the French republic swept aside the
parade ground tactics of the antiquated Prussian
army. Then he remarked: "From today and from this
place there begins a new epoch in the history of
the world. And you can say you were present at
the time."

Nato's military action has radically changed the
rules of the international game. In fact, they
were torn up when Nato's cruise missiles and
bombers went into action without UN Security
Council approval. Even those who wholeheartedly
endorse the humanitarian justification for the
Nato action must be aware that, when the first
cruise missile smashed through the thin skin of
international law, the world's door was opened on
to a void.

To get after the devil Milosevic Nato's leaders
tore down the fragile edifice of international
law. Even if we allow that their bombing campaign
did not incite the Serbs to terrible retaliation
against the Albanians in Kosovo, did they think
through the precedent that was set? Thomas More
cautioned his son-in-law Roper 500 years ago that
cutting down every hedge and thicket to get after
the devil would be self-destructive if he ever
turned like a whirlwind on his pursuer.

Little battered brutal Serbia may not turn and,
even if it did, could not hurt mighty Nato. But
the world is not so small. Even if we accept that
Milosevic will soon fall and a democratic Serbia
come into being alongside a repopulated Kosovo,
and even if we assume that Kosovo avoids the kind
of murderous chaos gripping Chechnya as the KLA
and its rivals settle their differences, a note
of caution in the hour of victory - if in this
case we have victory - is always valuable, if
rarely welcome.

The combination of Nato's hi-tech firepower with
the limitless possibilities for humanitarian
intervention in our imperfect world sets alarm
bells ringing. Unlike national interest,
humanitarian intervention knows no natural
limits. At times the Prime Minister's visionary
language suggests that he supports Nato becoming
a sort of Church Militant sending out armed
missionaries to restore peace and justice
globally.

Like most idealists, the prophets of the "New
World Order" are oblivious to the doubts held by
others. Isn't our high-minded motivation
obviously sincere? Shouldn't that be enough to
stifle reservations at home and abroad? Western
leaders assume that their humanitarian instincts
are shared by the rest of humanity.
Unfortunately, that isn't the case. Perhaps
because most of the world is still ruled by
tyrants or only recently escaped from
ideologically driven dictatorships, great swathes
of humanity regard high-flown rhetoric with a
jaundiced eye.

Modern global communications mean that what
would in the past have been a terrible but local
Balkan tragedy has become a universal event. But
one whose meaning is not universally agreed by
any means. For every voice applauding Nato's
action there are at least as many decrying it as
American imperialism. Americans are often baffled
by this charge. Look at how willingly the world
has adopted their popular music and films, their
soft drinks and even their business methods.
Sadly for America, humanity can imitate without
affection. An Armenian student from the local
American University told me last Sunday in
Yerevan: "We like American styles. We like
American music. We like Americans. But we don't
want to be told what to do by America. We want to
be independent."

If any Marxists still exist, they will recognise
this bitter irony of globalisation. Unlike any
previous hegemony, America faces rebellion from
the very people who most imitate it outwardly. In
the golden age of the British empire, an
ambitious Indian lawyer like Gandhi dressed in
the best Inner Temple style, and when he broke
with Britain the starched collar and pin-striped
suit went into the dustbin. As anti-American
Chinese students show, it is perfectly possible
to wear a baseball cap, jeans and a T-shirt and
still utter sentiments worthy of a Boxer a
century ago.

Ten years after the fall of the Berlin Wall, a
phenomenon is rapidly developing which hardly
existed behind the Iron Curtain before then -
popular anti-Americanism. Decades of Communist
propaganda from Berlin to Peking failed to
produce any genuine hostility to Americans, but
today on my travels around the ex-Soviet bloc, to
meet it is routine. Suspicion, indeed downright
disbelief, of American political motives is now
widespread.

Bombing Belgrade confirmed for umpteen millions
of people the idea that Washington seeks world
domination. Who will be next is the question.
Overnight, Ukrainians have gone from viewing
Russia as the major threat to their independence
to seeing the United States as the most likely
aggressor; some Ukrainians are even demanding
nuclear rearmament. The Chinese general staff has
struck a popular chord by observing that Nato's
method of attacking Yugoslavia's economic
infrastructure, to cripple the popular will to
resist, could set a trend in future wars. Indian
strategists and even Brazilian colonels have
written about how satellite-guided missiles might
be used against their semi-developed
infrastructure. India sees America as Pakistan's
traditional ally, and the Balkan war as another
justification of their A-bomb programme to deal
with their own Kosovo problem in Kashmir. Is it
absurd for Brazilians to fear that a future
president Al Gore might not only put human-rights
demands to them over their treatment of Amazonian
tribes, but might even fight an eco-war against
Rio de Janeiro to halt the destruction of the
rainforest? That might have seemed outlandish in
February; to many Brazilians it doesn't today.

By shattering the role of the UN Security
Council in authorising third parties to take
military action, Nato has created a world in
which irrational fears - some more irrational
than others - begin to seem almost plausible. The
Russian mediator Viktor Chernomyrdin has
predicted: "Even the smallest independent states
will seek nuclear weapons and delivery vehicles
to defend themselves." America and Britain have
been bombing Iraq for eight years to stop Saddam
Hussein getting such weapons. May other states
now come on to the target list?

It is hardly surprising that America's European
allies seem anxious to get in on the ground floor
of the new arms race. The war has given a
tremendous fillip to the idea of a European
defence identity. Ironically, even as the EU
leaders reiterate their commitment to Euro-
Atlantic solidarity and bask in the reflected
glory of the success of American hi-tech
weaponry, the pressure for the EU to shake off
its dependence on US leadership and firepower is
bearing fruit. The Tory Eurosceptic cheerleaders
of Operation Allied Force will find themselves
out in the cold as pan-European arms
conglomerates merge to facilitate the research
and development to equip a pan-European army.
Even before this war, the Europeanisation of the
British armed forces was moving ahead rapidly, if
surreptitiously.

Rickety old Antonovs have been providing the
heavy lift for the British forces in the Balkans
and carrying in aid. A European consortium will
soon be producing its own military equivalent of
the Airbus. That shouldn't be too difficult,
though the quarrels about who gets to make which
components will add to the cost. British
Aerospace, meanwhile, wants to co-ordinate the
production of our own smart bombs. That will be
expensive, and the smart bombs may never
materialise, but BAe will certainly pursue its
ambitious plans. What if the EU succeeds in
creating a viable defence identity and a genuine
defence industry? Will we still suffer the
tutelage of the Americans in Nato gladly?

The world will not be the same again. A decade
after the bloodless end of the Cold War, far from
rewriting the rules of international relations
the West's victory may have abolished them
altogether. Certainly the goalposts have been
moved and no one can be certain where we will
find them tomorrow. If peace is at hand, it could
be the peace to end all peace.